


Stark Contrast

by SavingAcadia



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-12-25 21:19:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavingAcadia/pseuds/SavingAcadia
Summary: Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!ReaderSummary: Being a teenager sucks without literally everything changing. Y/N never asked to be Tony Stark’s illegitimate daughter, but now she’s trying to build a parental relationship with a strange man while living in a facility filled with superheroes and going to school with only one friend, who happens to be her father’s intern, Peter Parker. And that’s not even the half go it.





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N first meets Tony Stark as his illegitimate daughter from a party 17 years ago. As Mr. Stark and her lawyer discuss custody, she must ponder if this is even something she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3,632
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, reference to familial death, mentions of sex, mention of a drop of blood
> 
> A/N: The beginning is finally here! I hope you all enjoy this introductory chapter. It’s really focused on introducing the character of Y/N and how she came to live with Tony. Peter and the whole big bang will begin in Chapter One, I promise! Also, I know Project Arsenal is something completely different in the comics, but here I’m using it to refer to the new element that saved Tony’s life in Iron Man 2. Please don't be afraid to leave kudos and comment! I want to hear from you all, even if you just want to tell me how your day is going!!!

Throughout her childhood, somewhere buried in a musty old closet was a document that held more family secrets than Y/N could care to know. Not that her life was great before Pandora’s Box opened. Her parents tried, but there was always that surreptitious foundation that made her feel like a black sheep, just left of center, and still outside the circle. One small life-ending car accident later, and she was discovered. The illegitimate daughter of Tony Stark, a poor girl from the slums of some nameless city in the midwest now suddenly torn away to upstate New York, riding in the car alongside a lawyer who was nervously adjusting his tie and preparing his big case. The clammy man awkwardly muttered an explanation about why this was not just another false claim, that this was his actual DNA pulsing through the result of a wild after party he threw in Seattle 17 years ago.

The driveway up to the obscene white building was long, winding and pointless. The security was at every corner, the vehicle constantly being stopped by AI surveillance that needed yet another verification. A scan here, a code there. Y/N couldn’t help but play with the automatic window in her boredom. The glass slid up and down with the flick of a switch. The sound of the outside air rushing in before being funnelled and cut off amused her childish mind, and the cold autumn air dusting over her cheeks was refreshing. Just the feeling of having control over the window made Y/N feel more secure in her current, dodgy affair. The car pulled up to the main entrance and beyond the silver-framed glass doors a large empty lobby could be seen, like a pristine shopping mall without the stores and gum-ball machines. The nervous man beside Y/N took a deep breath and then eagerly unlatched the door and pushed his way out. When she heard the door loudly click shut behind him, Y/N shrugged and shoved her shoulder into the door to follow suit.

It was sunny outside. The kind of beautiful August day that had no right to be so summer-y. The warmth radiated into Y/N’s cheek as she gazed upon the vast white monstrosity. She slowly stepped around in a circle, noticing the quin-jet on the runway in the front lawn and the slightly demolished trees of the uncultivated forest along the shoreline, flickers of the ocean water glimmering through the branches as it sloshed against the land. It was as ugly as it was beautiful. Y/N closed her eyes, just for a moment, and inhaled the fresh ocean air, it’s impurities tickling her nose as it rushed to her brain. She felt cleansed.

Finally, Y/N turned back around and jogged across the heated pavement to catch up with her lawyer, who was hurrying in a manner somewhere between stoic confidence and absolute frantic anxiety. The interior was a stark contrast to the bright white outside. A collection of black and grey floor tiles glowed in the natural light flooding in through the windows. Above their heads a couple of people in lab coats trotted across a glossy black catwalk, accented by the silver hardware that connected it to the glass panels and handrails. The two were speaking about in something that sounded like another language entirely, but she figured it had to be English given their London accents peeking through the dialogue. The whole place felt vast, but not empty. 

A man approached, whom Y/N recognized as Harold Hogan, known to his friends as “Happy”. The man who was once Tony Stark’s bodyguard was now known for his responsibility in managing the operations of the Avengers Facility. His face was serious and his walk meant business. Y/N couldn’t imagine what inspired the nickname “Happy” outside of good, old-fashion sarcasm. 

“Adam Goldberg?” Happy inquired, stepping up to Y/N’s lawyer with a slight scowl. Goldberg nodded tentatively, without any words. Happy huffed and turned to glare straight into Y/N’s eyes. “Is this your client?” he asked Goldberg passively, still staring at the teenager beside him.

“Yes,” Y/N heard Adam Goldberg state confidently as he straightened up. She was beginning to become annoyed by the accusing eyes of “Happy” Hogan. 

Happy nodded, “Alright. You two follow me. Do not touch anything. Better yet, don’t look at anything. Look straight ahead the whole way.” The man turned and began briskly walking at a pace it was hard to keep up with. Goldberg looked excited as the two of you trotted along, like a little kid on ‘Bring Your Kid to Work Day’, like this was his first big case. In fact, it probably was to some extent. How many cases could possibly warrant meeting a celebrity the likes of Tony Stark? Y/N shook her head at his ignorant bedside manner. This was her life in the hands of a billionaire and whether or not he’d really want to take the responsibility of a child he never knew he had. Quite simply, it was stressful. So when Happy Hogan stopped on the side of a glossy black door, it’d be safe to say her heart stopped for a few seconds. 

Mr. Goldberg reached for the golden door handle and eagerly pulled it open. Y/N couldn’t see behind his broad, suit-jacket wearing shoulders, adding to her heightened anxiety. She followed the grey-wool clad mass that was her lawyer into a dark office. Goldberg finally stepped aside to take a seat and Y/N’s breath hitched as she was faced with Tony Stark, slouched in a chair behind a large black desk and surrounded by gunmetal grey computers and machines. The room was lit up almost exclusively by the bright blue displays, depicting blueprints and schematics that seemed incomprehensibly detailed. Quickly, she took the seat to the right of Goldberg. It was strange to sit so close to a celebrity. She could see his pores, the faint scar across his left cheek and the grey hairs peeking out in his beard and his hairline. It all made him seem so real and human. The visual appearance of age made Y/N relax some as the feeling that this man was no longer the party monster that brought her into this world. He was a superhero, and that had to mature someone.

Still, she just lost her family, was at a meeting to determine what stranger she’d get tossed off to, and she wanted to be angry at this man. It was his immaturity that put her in a childhood of poverty. A rich man who had a fun night with a poor woman, and left her to raise the child. There was the small detail that her mother never told this Tony Stark that Y/N ever existed, but how would she even have gone about that? One night at a party doesn’t exactly warrant exchanging contact information on a hunk of Blackberry phone.

“Mr. Stark-” Goldberg began but was too startled to finish as Tony wordlessly jumped up from his chair and began working his way around the desk.

“So you’re what, fifteen?” Tony inquired dismissively, tapping a large silver pen against his palm as he meandered toward Y/N.

“Seventeen,” Y/N corrected passively, not hesitating long enough to skip a beat.

“And I’m just finding out about this now? A little suspicious, don’t you think?” Mr. Stark continued as he cornered around the evidently invisible lawyer.

Goldberg interrupted, “Sir, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t address my client directly-“

“I guess my mother just didn’t think you were the “father” type, though I can’t see why. Seems you made a pretty good sugar daddy for her,” Y/N remarked over her lawyer. It felt good to just give in to her hormonal teenage whims. She wanted to act out, and if there was a place to do it, of course it was this very important meeting.

Tony stopped and smiled. He set a hand on Goldberg’s shoulder and leaned in. “I like her,” he commented, before looking back at Y/N. She crossed her arms, leather jacket squeaking, and slouched back in her chair in defense. His face was different now. It showed a level of disassociation mixed with curiosity that quite frankly scared the teen he was staring down. It was like looking at an angry parent mocking fake innocence before blowing their top. The big crazy eyes and the slow approach. Y/N chewed her lip nervously as Tony Stark stepped behind her chair and set his hands on the corners of the backrest.

A zap ran down Y/N’s spine and she jumped away from Tony in her chair, yelling, “Ouch!” as her hand flew up to the back of her neck. It was wet and she pulled her hand down to see a small spot of blood on her palm, nothing that wouldn’t stop in a matter of seconds, and still blood. “What the hell?” Y/N yelled, shifting in her chair to face Tony Stark. She was shocked, confused, angry, and she wanted answers even if she couldn’t form a sentence that communicated any of that.

“DNA test,” Tony shrugged, pulling back the object Y/N had previously thought was a pen, and now understood to be the machine that stabbed her moments ago. The man smirked at the obnoxious teen’s obvious frustration as he backed away confidently.

“You couldn’t have just asked?” Y/N sputtered.

“You see, I really couldn’t have,” Tony sighed. “DNA tests are a tricky thing. Could be faked, could be toxic, and it was much more fun to see your face do that thing.”

“What thing?” The insecurity was already forming, though for what she didn’t know. She watched as the man placed the not-a-pen object into a slot that had opened up in his desk. It disappeared before their eyes as it was sucked away.

“Mr. Stark, really-“ Goldberg tried again, only for Tony to ignore him and begin explaining.

“We’ll see the results from that in a few seconds, and then we can talk.”

Y/N adjusted in her chair. She really didn’t know what would happen. For all she knew, she wasn’t actually Tony Stark’s kid and her mother was a compulsive liar. All she had to tell her otherwise was a shitty piece of paper that had been hidden in a closet for years if not her entire life. And what if she was Tony Stark’s daughter? Would that really be any better? He was an annoying, childish stranger from what she had seen and what business did he have suddenly trying to be a father? That is, if he even would try. It was all very agonizing, and Y/N found herself compulsively tugging at the sleeves of her leather jacket.

“Now I’m gonna be honest with you, kid,” Tony started, “I don’t remember your mother at all. I don’t remember a lot of women, to her credit, but when someone starts knocking down your door claiming they have your DNA, you have to be careful,” Y/N couldn’t tell if she wanted to roll her eyes or cry at what this man was saying. She felt lost and lonely, and he was definitely only making it worse. “Especially now. We don’t know who’s out there, and when the media has given us the whole ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ gig, who knows what kind of people-”

“The results are in, Sir.” It was like a voice from the sky. Y/N hadn’t noticed any speakers in the room, and wasn’t prepared to be hearing the voice of this AI interface the entire world had heard about without actually hearing it, called “J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“Right on time,” Tony commented, plopping back down into his chair, slightly sideways with a leg hanging over the armrest. “What’ve you got for me, Jarvis?”

“It’s a match.” Tony’s smug faced drained into a pale expression of nothingness. He stared vacantly into the wall beyond his dangling leg.

“Get out,” Tony mumbled.

“What?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she spoke, though her face was contorted in a type of concern and confusion she had never known.

“Get out, kid,” Tony commanded aggressively as he once again stood up, mentioning, “I want to talk to your lawyer,” as he hurried around the desk and opened the office door. Y/N kept staring at the manic man as he gestured like a doorman. “Vamoose. Move your caboose, kid, I’ve not got time to read you a whole Dr. Seuss book,” Stark complained as he dropped an exhausted hand.

Hurriedly, Y/N collected herself and scuttled out the door, not sure where she was supposed to go while this was going on, or what that even meant. She gasped as the door slammed behind her, wind gusting through her hair at the sudden movement. Her brows knit together and her lips gaped as she began to panic. Eyes watering as she stared at the floor. A throat clearing beside her pulled her back into reality, turning to see the now softer, yet clearly uncomfortable face of Happy Hogan. He didn’t even speak, just nodded his head to the side and started walking. Y/N followed him as she presumed that is what he intended, though everything seemed so different here it was hard to tell. He led her into an open lounge they had passed on the way to Tony’s office earlier. There was a wall of windows behind a large black leather couch, that made a “U” shape around an unlit stone fireplace. Directly behind was a bar lined with various expensive-looking liquor bottles. Y/N turned to look at Happy, trying to figure out if this was where she was supposed to be. He shifted awkwardly and nodded toward the couch while clearing his throat again. She sadly looked at the floor and walked over to the couch, taking a seat before looking back for approval from Happy, still back at the walkway. Upon seeing her on the couch, he promptly walked off back toward Tony’s office. She was alone.

She was crying before she could even process it. Y/N hated crying, but here she was doing it. A tear here for how overwhelmed she was, a sniff there for how scared she was, and a long exhale for how exhaustingly alone she felt. Time was slow. Even as the orange glow of sunset flooded into the room, Y/N felt as though she’d be trapped in that awful moment forever. She watched the sun sink lower into the sky as her tears dried, the weight of a thousand buildings on her chest. It was devastating as the burning light silhouetted the trees and glimmered in the ocean. After what she could swear had been hours, Y/N finally heard placid voices and turned to the open end of the room that aligned with the hallway. She saw Happy and Mr. Goldberg walk past, their giant shadows hurrying against the warm glow of the wall behind them. Neither so much as turned to look at her. She caught only a fragment of their conversation. Something about the logistics of transferring materials, but they disappeared behind the second wall so quickly. Y/N couldn’t be bothered with being concerned anymore. It had been too many hours that day she had worried, so she shrugged off the appearance and turned back to the last of the sunset. The flaming orb had all but disappeared, and all that was left of its presence was a pink hue over the shoreline. Sunset always moved at such an exponential pace. Once it was almost over, you’d blink and it’d be done.

It was beginning to grow dim in the room. It had probably been about 15 minutes since Mr. Goldberg had left and the windows were providing minimal light, but the whole place was muted and blue without the sun to light it up. Y/N almost found herself feeling drowsy, but was pulled right back as suddenly the fluorescent ceiling lights popped on, causing her to swing her head around suddenly to find the source, eventually landing on a tentative Tony Stark not quite standing in the room as he half hid behind the wall closest to his office.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted calmly, as he walked into the space, hands hidden in the pockets of his blue jeans. The imposing glow of his chest piece polluted his black t-shirt as he approached Y/N. She watched him carefully as he sat down beside her, about another person’s worth of space between them. It was quiet. They both stared at their own shuffling feet and between the two of them, nothing was said for what seemed like an eternity. “Happy talked to Goldberg about getting your stuff here. It’ll be in your room sometime tomorrow morning.”

This was a lot more information than what was said, and still Y/N felt the need to clarify, “So I’m staying? Like, here?”

“Yeah. I mean, this is where I live and I guess I’m your guardian now, so this is home.” Tony seemed to be speaking aimlessly, struggling to find the right words.

“Weird,” Y/N responded simply, sitting on her hands uncomfortably.

“Weird,” Tony agreed before remaining silent for another hopelessly long amount of time. The moon was beginning to take place in the early-evening lavender sky when he shifted, pointing his knees toward the teen. “Look, I am sorry but I really don’t remember your mother.”

“Why would you even say that?” Y/N asked, suddenly standing up and facing the now small looking man on the couch.

Tony sat up and defensively snapped back, “I was just trying to be honest-”

“Honest doesn’t make it okay. I don’t know you. You’re a strange man who sexed my mother, and now I’m standing in your house without warning. I am not here for honest right now,” Y/N ranted. Her face was heating up and she felt the need to begin pacing a small path in front of him, only about a meter wide. “And where was that honesty when you decided to stab me in the fucking neck?”

“I had to make sure you weren’t just another ‘fake news’ case.” Tony’s face turned harder as he now stood up from the couch, not much taller than Y/N, and probably not as threatening as he would like to be as a consequence. “I’m trying to tell you that I cannot remember anything about that night. I don’t remember your mother. From what I can tell, I was so blackout drunk that night I forgot to use a condom. My mistake.”

Y/N jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?” she shouted. “I didn’t have a choice to be born. I just was; whatever the reason. I just lost my entire family and now I’m supposed to live with a strange man. I’m scared!” She near screamed.

“Well I’m scared, too, kid,” Tony stated firmly, staring her down. “Neither of us asked for this, okay? I’m not a dad. I don’t have the prerequisites for that. I’m just a guy who now has custody of a teenager. What am I supposed to do with that?” The sound of his voice beginning to break apart sobered Y/N from her previous state of anger. The man took a calming breath before continuing, “I’m trying to be honest about not remembering your mother so you don’t have any pretenses about me. I can’t be your parent—not in the way she was.”

“She was a bitch anyway,” Y/N commented submissively, plopping back on the couch.

“You don’t miss her?” Tony sat down again, this time next to her. His words, for the first time, expressed genuine interest.

“I mean, I do, like she cared for me and all, but she had her shortcomings, too. She lied about who my biological father was for the last 17 year of my life, which is all of them, so that kind of sucks.” Y/N felt a little embarrassed about the dialectics she was toying with, and felt the need to simplify it all into a simple, “It’s complicated.”

“I get that,” Tony agreed, cautiously placing an arm along the back of the couch behind Y/N’s head. “My old man was a pain in the ass. Couldn’t even find the time to acknowledge my existence. Then after he died I found out about Project Arsenal.” The curious teen looked Stark in the eyes for the first time that night and pulled her legs onto the couch so she could sit sideways and face him. “It saved my life, but it still doesn’t make up for getting ignored through an entire childhood.”

“Big mood,” Y/N nodded.

“Big what?”

“Big mood,” Y/N repeated. Tony turned his palms up and shook his head, making her giggle to know that even if he is one of the most relevant people in the world, he still was an old guy who didn’t know the lingo. “It’s like, I feel that. You know?” For the first time since meeting the world famous Tony Stark, she saw a genuine smile begin to play at the corner of his lips. “You’re not getting this, are you?” Y/N presumed. “It means it’s relatable,” she tried again, laughing at the strange man. She knew he was right in that he couldn’t be a “dad” to her, but if this was Tony, she figured she could survive having one of those.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
> 
> Word count: 6,557
> 
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> Chapter Summary: Y/N is trying to settle into her new life while attending her first day of school at Midtown School of Science and Technology, where she is bombarded for being Tony Stark’s daughter. She is overwhelmed, but finds solace in the kindness of her dad’s intern Peter and the open arms of his friends Ned and MJ.
> 
> A/N: I’m so excited to finally get this story started!!! I really wanted to make things still unknown and uncomfortable and to introduce characters slowly so we really get to see the relationships forming. If you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, reblog this with “Stark Contrast Tag List” in the notes and I‘ll add your username. Members of the tag list MUST reblog. I look forward to your feedback, friends!

 

Chapter One  
The brilliant lights came on automatically as she woke up. Y/N still wasn’t used to that. She opened her eyes to watch as the curtains rose up and revealed the beautiful morning sunrise on the horizon. “Good Morning. It is 6:30 am. The weather is 74 degrees with scattered clouds,” Jarvis began the morning protocol as the tired teen began to slump out of bed, making her way toward what, to Y/N, was the largest wardrobe ever. It wasn’t full. Not even close, but it had expanded from her modest 5 favorite tees to be a bit more well rounded since moving into the Avengers Facility. It had only been a couple of weeks, but Tony had been restlessly trying to make things as normal as possible for Y/N. He just didn’t necessarily know what “normal" was.

She’d gone to public school her whole life. It wasn’t as rough as everyone seems to think, but it wasn’t exactly glamorous either. She told Tony she’d be fine going to Midtown High with all the public school dwellers, but he insisted on sending her to the Midtown School of Science and Technology, a private STEM school. It wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, but Stark’s intern, Peter, whom she had seen in passing only a handful of times, attended the organization and Tony seemed to think they could look out for each other. It seemed like a strange arrangement. Peter was a scrawny 16-year-old kid, Y/N was 17 and incapable of completing a push-up drill. What could they do to protect each other that the school wouldn’t already be doing? Still, it was nice knowing there was someone with an incentive to be on her side if things did go horribly awry.

“Road conditions are normal. Mild traffic. I suggest leaving by 7:20 to get to school by 7:53,” Jarvis continued as Y/N pulled her best sarcastic t-shirt out alongside her leather jacket. It was as good as anything for the first day at a new school in which she’d be completely out of her element. “And miss Y/N,” Jarvis continued. It was an addition to his normal wake-up protocol and slightly jarred the girl as she struggled with her skinny jeans. She was surprised that he was still going. “Have a good first day of school,” Jarvis finished. Y/N smiled at the corner of her mouth. The idea that Jarvis, a mere computer program, had enough personality to want to wish her well was absolutely crazy. Some might even find it frightening, but Y/N found it endearing and appreciated the sentiment.

After lacing up her red converse, an item that would always be a staple in her closet whether they were in fashion at the time or not, Y/N hurried to get breakfast. The metal hardware on her trusty old jacket clinked as she jogged down the empty hall to the kitchen. It was an open design, so she supposed it was a dining room, too. Overall, the inhabitants of the tower just called it “the mess hall” as a reference to the number of people who use it during the day. Of course, one tiny kitchen wasn’t enough to house an entire team of Avengers. They all had kitchenettes in their individual rooms, so if they were in the mess hall, it was usually a social appearance. And like always, when she entered the wide open room, there was Steve Rogers making his, as he sat at the breakfast bar with his nose buried in a giant newspaper and a steaming coffee within an arms reach.

Y/N hadn’t really spoken to any of the Avengers yet, which was understandable. They all kept busy schedules and she was kind of irrelevant to the work they did, but Steve Rogers was a creature of habit. He went for a run at 5 am every morning. At 6:30 he’d pick up the daily paper he insisted get dropped off, which was a work out in itself to jog all the way down the drive to the outside of the security perimeter to get something he could have just pulled up on his tablet. Then he’d come to the mess hall, make himself a no-nonsense black coffee and read the paper front to back. So it was purely situational that Steve Rogers was the Avenger Y/N had spoken to most. It was like having your super young, super hot grandpa at the breakfast table, talking about the news articles he read in the paper, occasionally complaining that there were too many pictures these days and that in his day they wouldn’t have insulted the writers with such showmanship. It was usually at that point that Tony would lean across the breakfast bar and make a shady quip about Cap being old.

Behind the wide open newspaper, Y/N could see Pepper and Tony in the kitchen making a waffle breakfast. Seeing a literal billionaire making a modest meal was a sight to see, but Pepper said it kept him humble. For that matter, it seemed like they enjoyed it. It meant they got to spend time together. Not a CEO with a company to run and a superhero with responsibilities to fulfil. In these moments, they got to be Pepper and Tony, a complex and often confusing but ultimately loving couple. The way Tony smiled at his love as they moved about caused Y/N’s heart to flutter as she entered the room. From what she could tell, they really brought out the best in each other, especially Pepper. She had been so encouraging in these first rocky weeks of Tony and Y/N figuring out what their relationship is and how it should be, and such great emotional support in their struggles. If there was a hero of heroes in this entire Avengers Facility, it was Pepper Potts.

“First day of school!” Pepper exclaimed as Y/N sat down next to Steve, doing some oddly unexcited jazz hands beside her head. Pepper had been trying so hard, and as far as Y/N was concerned,  she seemed to have the whole “awkward mom” thing down to an art. Still, it put a smile on Y/N’s face. “How are you feeling?” Pepper asked as she opened the steaming waffle maker before her. It was strange to Y/N to just walk into a homemade breakfast before school, but she found it charming and appreciated it all the same.

“Indifferent,” Y/N stated after a beat of thought. Pepper seemed unsure what to respond and instead chose to smile and nod while shoving a plated waffle in front of Y/N. It was a strange state of mind Y/N found herself in. She felt like she should be nervous to be starting a new school where she didn’t know anyone, or the area, or anything a private school student probably should know, but at the end of the day, it was just school. She’d done school before and she knew the game. It’d come to her naturally.

Tony, in an attempt to not acknowledge the uncomfortable exchange, interjected, “Hey Steve, you want a waffle?” He jutted out another waffle across the bar toward the well-postured gentleman. Slowly Steve lowered the newspaper until his eyes just peeked over it to stare down Tony.  “Yeah, I didn’t think so. This one fell on the floor anyway, so…” Tony trailed off as he lowered the plate to the tabletop. Suddenly he looked back up, quizzing Cap, “What’s so interesting in that paper anyway?”

“You,” Rogers replied nonchalantly, folding the paper and turning it around to reveal a photograph of a young, clearly intoxicated Tony Stark under a headline that read, ‘Scandal, Disgrace, Sex: Tony Stark’s Illegitimate Daughter Exposed’. It was clear Steve had done this as a favor, and still, Y/N choked on a bite of waffle.

“Well, shit!” Y/N exclaimed as she both struggle to breathe through the food in her airway and struggle to speak around the rest of the bite. Before she could examine the piece, Tony had snatched the paper out of Steve’s hands. His eyes flew through lines of text, and he muttered as he skimmed.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony muttered as he continued to glance through the article. As he completed the column he threw the paper down on the table, looking up at Y/N directly. She furrowed her brow as she testy looking man tapped his finger on the table. his face was turning red and she could tell he was trying to keep his composure. It agonized her. Her curiosity and her own anxieties made her want to ask what it was right away, but her gut said to give Tony a moment to compose himself. Tony suddenly looked down at the paper on the table and gave a long exhale before looking back up and speaking. “Goldberg. Seems he was really desperate to get his name out there.” Tony turned the paper around and slid it toward Y/N, gesturing to the text as he claimed, “It’s all there. Your mother, the party we met at. Against all confidentiality laws, your name, age, location… The only thing he doesn’t have is a picture. And worst of all, he makes it out like he is the hero of the story.”

“I pretty sure Y/N’s leaked identity is worse,” Steve interjected seriously, setting the coffee he had neglected to sip back down on the table. The man adjusted his legs and leaned forward onto his arms. “We need a plan to keep Y/N safe,” he insisted. “She’s been exposed, and by all practical purposes she’s a civilian.”

“But she’s not just a civilian,” Tony argued, “She’s a kid—my kid—and I’ll be damned if anyone does anything to her as an attempt to get to me.” Y/N was shocked to hear Tony calling her ‘his kid’ is such a protective manner. He’d only known her for a couple of weeks at this point, and it felt weird, uncomfortable even. Still, she had never dealt with the notion of being Avenger bait, so she felt it best to let the man go through his process. “Fine!” Tony yelled, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air. As Tony Stark wordlessly ran out of the room, Y/N felt it best to just finish the damn waffle.

By 7:17 am and Y/N was beginning to worry she would be late. Which for embarrassment sake, she really didn’t want. She was glad Steve was trying to distract her, telling the story about the time he punched the real Adolph Hitler. It was extremely embellished and was comparable to listening to your grandfather tell the same story from Vietnam for the quadrillionth time, but it was charming coming from the spry man with the perfect teeth. He was just explaining his brilliant getaway involving a bottle cap, a toothpick, and some explosive fertilizer when Tony walked by, hollering, “Follow me, kid,” without so much as a glance toward Y/N. She looked at Steve with a slightly confused glance before hopping out of her chair and jogging to the hall to catch up with Tony. She felt like she was trotting to keep up with his brisk pace as she began to follow beside him. “This,” Tony began, clumsily pulling a mysterious item out of his inner jacket pocket, “is a standard issue Stark wrist communicator.” He held out an item that looked like an Apple watch if an Apple watch had been knocked up by the iron man armor and given birth to the future. “It is a touchscreen,” Stark explained, “but I also uploaded Jarvis to the mainframe. I’ve set it up to notify me at any hint of distress. If your vitals spike, I’ll know. If you send a distress signal I’ll know. If you need to contact me, all you have to do is smack it, just make sure you completely cover the face. Think of it like speed-dial.”

Tony paused for a moment in the main lobby where Y/N had waited anxiously that first day. He held out his hand and Y/N complied by setting her wrist on his open palm. The man pressed the square watch face to her skin and before her eyes, it expanded into a full-fledged metal brace. The face was surrounded by anodized gold hardware that led way to the armor-like plates of red metal that telescoped out of each other and encased the girl’s wrist. She was now in possession of one of the most advanced devices on earth and had virtually no idea how to use it. She wasn’t even sure how to take it off, but Tony was in such a hurry that he had already moved on, rushing toward the main entrance. Y/N took one last moment to admire the strong looking tech on her arm before taking off out the front doors with Tony. As the two exited a silver sports-car bearing the Audi rings across the grate pulled up the drive and stopped right in their path.

“This is my 2008 Audi R8. She might be old, but she’s got plenty of tricks up her sleeve. Jarvis can connect to the vehicle from your com-link, you don’t even have to drive. It’ll take you anywhere you want to go and automatically take the best route possible. You can hail it from up to a mile away using your wrist communicator.” Tony stopped, pulled an expensive looking key fob out of his pants pocket and tossed it at Y/N. She almost missed it in her shock but snapped out of it fast enough to catch the small black object.

The man smiled and started jogging back inside, causing Y/N to turn around and call back, “Can I drive it?” Among all the features of a self-driving, completely automated car, he neglected to mention the most important part to any teenager: the freedom factor.

“Are you licensed?” Tony asked before slowly stepped behind him, moving backwards.

“Yes,” Y/N called back uncertainly. Tony simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged in response before he spun around, trotting to the large glass doors. Y/N carefully looked down at the small black object in her hand and turned it over to see the logo imprinted on the side. The attached key jingled and she was overcome with a smile. Turning back up to the vehicle that, although was old enough to not be the most sought after model, still looked like pristine money. “Yes!” The teen exclaimed as she ran around to the driver’s side and slid into Tony’s old car, of which she was sure he had many. The interior was dark leather, and the console had clearly been redone by Stark. Lines of thin blue lights detailed the edges of the console, and the after-market touchscreen display lit up with Jarvis’s systems when she got in.

“Preparing to take you to Midtown School of Science and Technology, Miss Y/N,” the computer notified her through the aged speaker system.

Eagerly, Y/N responded, “Just get me the map, Jarvis. I’ll take the wheel on this one.” She was switching gears before she had even finished speaking, so excited to take off in this ageless car she had seen so many times in movies and being driven by celebrities. It was a privilege she had yet to know, having her own car. She may have had her license, but never sole ownership of her own vehicle. She could go anywhere she wanted to in that thing, with full control over the radio, and for Tony’s sake, Jarvis as her only passenger. It was an escape plan first and foremost, she knew. Tony wanted her to have a fast and reliable way out if she was ever in trouble, but the fact remained as she floored the gas down the long drive of the Avengers Facility, he had simultaneously handed her independence in the form of a coupe.

Y/N violently swung into an open parking spot, flaunting the rich-looking car for no one but herself. Stark could have given her an old, barely working Toyota and she would have been just as happy. The Audi though, it was just old enough to be out of style, which she liked, and still screamed that she was a force to be reckoned with. Y/N pulled her heavy backpack from the passenger seat and flung it over her right shoulder and took a deep breath. She had no idea what awaited her, but against all social rules, she felt prepared for anything. Y/N tugged on the door handle and pushed her way out into the sunshine. The warmth immediately brushed her cheek. She glanced around at all the student groups in the parking lot sharing their summer stories. At least she was starting at the beginning of the school year. The teen confidently strode toward the front door of the school, passing by all the social circle. Many paused to look at the strange girl as she strode by, speaking low in their voices, but Y/N elected to ignore it. She had gotten to the front door when she realized her focus was so much on maintaining her composure that she forgot to lock the very expensive vehicle. “Shit,” She muttered, turning around to run back close enough to use the key fob.

“I’ve got it, miss,” Jarvis mentioned from her wrist, making Y/N jump and causing the judgmental looking teenagers who were loitering around the entrance to perk up attentively. There was a quiet chirp from across the parking lot, like hearing a cricket during the day.

“Thanks, Jarvis,” Y/N mumbled, thankful for the ease of having the AI’s help. She glanced at the group of girls to her left whispering and looking, but ultimately turned around and kept pushing into the building.

It was loud inside. All the excited students seeing their friends for the first time in three months from across the hall, yelling to each other. It felt chaotic. She just wanted to find her class as soon as possible and not be late. The starting bell rang as Y/N turned down the first hall she saw parting off from the lobby. She had 5 minutes of passing time to find her first-period class and no knowledge of the building. It was bleak and littered with grey lockers under fluorescent lighting that seemed to be just above spooky hospital lighting, but the windows were a nice touch. They let the natural light do all the heavy lifting in lighting up the place. So Y/N wandered off through the wedges of sunlight that bled up the walls, reading numbers to the left of every door. She was thankful to find they were in numerical order all through the building, making it very intuitive to get from one place to another. After a few minutes of following the door signs, she finally came across room 108-C, AP Literature and Composition. It seemed like a good place to start the day. A large woman with brown curly hair and a high, mousy voice greeted the steady flow of students excitedly as they filtered into the dim classroom. The oppressive fluorescent lights had been turned off, opting to operate on the natural sunlight coming in the windows at the back of the classroom. Y/N slid into a desk in the middle of the classroom. She wasn’t the person who needed to be at the back, she wanted to be engaged, but there was a certain comfort to not being on the first lines when it came to open questions from a teacher.

As the final bell rang, the round woman bobbled happily toward her desk, exclaiming, “Welcome to AP Lit!” The slide on the smart board at the front of the class changed to a purple title slide that looked like a third grader had done it, but you could tell there was thought put into it. The class was still chattering with side conversation between the excited students as the teacher announced, “I’m going to go ahead and do roll call right now just to get it out of the way, and then we can get to the fun stuff!” Y/N tried to remember the names as the teacher ran down the list, thinking it would help level the playing field. It wasn’t practical, though. She ended up forgetting each name as soon as it came. It was just too much information at once. She couldn’t even hear half of them over the continued summer recon chitchat. “Y/F/N-Stark?” The room went silent like they’d heard a school shooter in the hall. Y/N knew they’d heard the rumors from the paper this morning, and it didn’t help that Tony registered the teen with a hyphened name. He did it for clarification reasons so that when he did have to act as a guardian there would be no confusion that he held that role, and Y/N had agreed at the time. Now, she just wanted to bury her face in the textbook she hadn’t even received yet and become a mass of hair. She had no idea what that response would mean in trying to establish herself at a new school. It’s not like she was about to be isolated, except perhaps, by extremists who disapprove of her “illegitimate” existence. “Y/F/N-Stark,” the teacher called out again. Y/N hadn’t realized she’d been too distracted to answer.

“Here,” she claimed apathetically as all the eyes of the classroom shot to her at that dumb middle desk. It was as if to say, ‘If there was any confusion before, yes, this is Tony Stark’s daughter here in your classroom. Now don’t be shy.’ The next name, “Flash Thompson” was well heard, and well ignored as the students continued to process how they could use this to their advantage. Y/N felt like she was in a lobster in a tank, with nowhere to go and 30 curious eyes glancing between her and their friends. Still, she tried to keep calm and remind herself that they were in class, the teacher had control, and they couldn’t so much as find an excuse to talk to her without being reprimanded for not paying attention. With that in mind, Y/N fixed her posture to exhume confidence as she focused her mind back on the kind looking woman, who was moving on to the next slide.

“I am Mrs. Winterhalter and since you’re going to be hearing me speak a lot about English this semester, I figured I’d share some things about myself.” She clicked to the next slide, which displayed a photograph of the tubby woman with a silver-haired man, who near doubled her height, and a young girl with the same mop of curly brown hair atop a sporty physique. “This is my husband Ryan and my daughter Gwen,” the woman explained, “Ryan and I met when we were in college, and have been together since.” This earned a brief ‘Aw…’ from the room as Winterhalter continued, “Gwen is 14 and she’s a very talented lacrosse player.” Y/N appreciated the vulnerability of the teacher sharing her personal life with the class. Most people wouldn’t do that, and it really started the course off on the right foot.

After she concluded introducing herself, the class knew that Mrs. Winterhalter was an opinionated activist who loved her family and her dogs and indulged in the occasional mountain biking trip. At this point, she decided to give the class a quick 5-minute mental break before breaking down the course syllabus. She seemed kind and like an engaged teacher who didn’t take things too seriously, but would still get the job done. Y/N thought this would be a fun class to be in for the teacher alone. A good sense of humor and strong ideals were the way to her heart, and Mrs. Winterhalter checked those boxes easily. The large woman sat down at her desk but remained engaged in a conversation with the four students closed to that corner. Meanwhile, the honey-skinned girl beside Y/N leaned over, her long and straight, glossy, black hair spilling over the side of the desk. Y/N turned to meet her haunting hazel eyes that were so bright you’d think they were contacts. “So you’re like, Tony Stark’s daughter, right?” The beautiful girl asked.

Y/N had to take a moment to remind herself that not everyone in her life had malevolent intent, and she should give this girl who was trying to connect with her a fair chance. Just because things had changed in Y/N’s life, didn’t mean it was wrong for people to ask about it. “Yeah,” she responded nervously. “What’s your name again?”

“Pavitra Prabhakar, but people call me Pai,” the girl responded with a smile that Y/N could swear glittered in the sunlight. This girl was the millennial beauty standard and then some and it was intimidating. “So are you really living with the Avengers?” Pavitra asked. “I mean, that’s what J. Jonah Jamison said on the news, but it just seems so strange.”

Y/N felt a relief at that last part, letting down her guard and fully involving herself. “It is!” she exclaimed as her rigid shoulders dropped to a casual slouch. “It is _so_ weird and I don’t think I could compare it to any other experience.”

“What are they like?” Pai inquired, dreamily resting her head on a hand. Nearby, people were starting to pay attention to the conversation taking place between the two girls. It was unusual, but Y/N felt a relief wash over her as she finally got it through her head that these kids were just curious, and more importantly they were willing to listen to her talk genuinely about how strange the last two weeks of her life had been.

“Well, I haven’t met most of them yet,” Y/N began. “They’re all people with lives outside of work, you know? They have homes of their own, individual projects. Some of them have jobs. the Avengers Facility is mostly intended to be a headquarters for when there is a team mission, or for the heroes who can’t or don’t want to live out in the world, so I really haven’t met anyone. Steve’s around, but we haven’t really talked much, and obviously Tony-”

“You call your dad by his first name?” a small blonde girl interrupted from a couple seats behind Pai. She looked like the kind of goody-goody that made you want to snap her bird-boned neck.

It was hard not to take offense at the subtle judgement, but Y/N turned to the fragile-looking girl with a scowl and turned back to Pavitra. She was ready to change the subject. This was supposed to be a get-to-know your classmates moment, and Y/N wanted to learn more about the girl who had engaged her, rather than spend the entire time being bombarded with questions about people she hadn’t met. Taking a deep breath, the teen attempted to return to her conversation, inquiring, “So Pai, are you in any clubs?”

“Just one,” Pai mentioned. “MISA, the Midtown International Student Association. It’s sometimes hard to balance identity and ambition in this place. It’s a private school with an unsurprising economic and race demographic. My family is from India, and I got here on a partial scholarship while my mother is struggling to pay the rest. It can be discouraging to navigate a sea of pasty white skin. I like knowing there is a place I can go where other people have untraditional backgrounds like me.” She gave a shy smile as she finished speaking that warmed Y/N’s heart. Clearly, MISA was a second home to Pai and it obviously meant a lot to her, and that gave Y/N hope.

“Alright, the moment you’ve all been waiting for… the syllabus,” Winterhalter claimed excitedly.

Y/N found the same story happened in all her courses. The cat was out of the bag; Tony Stark’s daughter goes here now. Better ask her about all the Avengers she doesn’t know and obtrusive personal questions that are just uncalled for. It wasn’t malicious, and Y/N was trying to focus on that, but between the boredom of syllabus day and the constant bombardment of questions, she was burned out by lunchtime. As she wandered the cafeteria looking for a comfortable looking place to sit, she sat Pavitra send a smile and wave her way, but Pai had so many friends and Y/N wasn’t ready to meet any more people. She smiled politely at the kind girl but ultimately continued to the back of the cafeteria where she saw a vacant table, opting to sit alone and isolate herself from the intrusive gossip that was out of her control.

Looking down at the food was unappetizing, but Y/N had been in worse situations. The fact that the school provided food, and worked hard to make it healthy and nutritious was something she wouldn’t take for granted the way so many of her American peers did. She stabbed her fork into a piece of steamed broccoli and spun it around as she meditated. Would it always be like this? Could people just get used to Y/N the person and not the Stark? She shoved the green vegetable into her mouth and tasted the earthy flavor of mass-produced food. It may not be the broccoli florets from Costco that she grew up with, but then again nothing would ever beat those. Y/N popped another in her mouth when she noticed a figure approaching her right shoulder. She turned to see the boy she recognized as Peter Parker climbing into the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy said kindly, glancing at Y/N for only a brief moment before turning back to his half-eaten tray of food nervously.

She hadn’t thought of this as an option. Peter Parker was Tony’s intern with no reason to ask dumb questions. This caused her lips to curl into a half-smile at the corner of her mouth as she responded, “Hey, Peter.”

The socially strange boy seemed to take this as a cue and looked back up. “I saw you sitting here all alone and I thought you might want someone to sit with,” he explained innocently. Y/N turned to look at Peter. She’d seen him in passing, but they’d never really spoken or stood together long enough in a room for her to really understand what he looked like or how he acted. He was cute. Kind of like the lost puppy you find on the street who is hesitant to come along with you but has these big hopeful brown eyes that beg you to be something safe, but the moment you give them some kind of positive interaction they start wagging their tail and running around in circles. That was Peter. All it took was for Y/N to say hello to him and now he was smiling and brushing back his hair as he excitedly continued, “Ned and MJ wanted to come over here, too, but I thought maybe they should wait for me to see if it was okay. You know, we didn’t want to impede on your alone time or anything, and-”

“Which ones are they?” Y/N interrupting, knowing she wouldn’t get a word in if she let him continue. Peter gestured a few tables down to a hefty kid in a zip-up hoodie and a small girl with her unruly hair tied back. Both were watching the exchange intensely from the empty table and smiled when Y/N looked over. If she didn’t know any better she’d say the two looked suspicious, for what she didn’t know. She could tell they were trying and it was sweet. Gently, Y/N smiled and waved them over, watching as the two clumsily struggled their way up from the table and speed walked over to where she and Peter sat like they’d just been invited to the “cool” table in a 1960’s comic book.

“Hi Y/N,” Ned greeted cheerily as he plopped down across from her, his tray making a loud sound against the table.

MJ carefully slid in next to Ned and uninterestingly asked, “You get asked about anything not Avenger related yet?” Peter’s head swung around with big scared eyes and furrowed brow as if to say, ‘I told you not to bring that up’, but MJ simply leaned forward with intrigue.

Y/N simply answered, “No.” To which MJ responded by laughing like a sociopath. It sounded like she was disinterested and even perhaps a tad condescending with her mocking laugh, but the smile on the girls face and her friendly posture told Y/N that this was MJ’s version of bonding, and honestly, Y/N didn’t mind.

“Yeah, people at this school are dumb,” MJ continued in her humorous way, nose crinkling in her amusement as Peter exhaled in relief that he hadn’t just facilitated a cat fight.

“Do you like Star Wars?” Ned inquired earnestly. He didn’t even waste time to wait for an answer, immediately continuing, “Because I just got this really great mold of a Count Dooku figure—Hang on, it’s in my backpack. I’ll show you,” Ned insisted as he turned to dig through his very full book bag. Y/N glanced at Peter who smiled nervously at her and then turned back to his friend. “Here it is!” Ned exclaimed, holding up the small vinyl figure victoriously.

“Nerd,” MJ scoffed amiably.

“Look at his face!” Ned told Y/N eagerly, handing over the treasured action figure so she could get a closer look. It really said a lot that Ned would let her handle something that clearly meant a lot to him when he barely knew her. It felt good to be given a chance.

Y/N carefully turned over the figure in her hands, looking at the intricate details and appreciating how it looked artistically. The truth was she liked Star Wars, but not enough to really know who Count Dooku was. Even so, she was glad Ned shared it with her. It made her feel like she was actually getting to know someone for the first time that day, and that gave Y/N hope. “That’s really cool, Ned. Thanks for sharing it with me,” Y/N offered kindly as she handed back the figure to its rightful owner. Ned took it from her hands while looking excitedly between Peter and MJ, and Y/N was pretty sure she’d received his approval. “What about you, MJ. Any big exciting news to share?” Y/N teased, trying to get the quiet girl to speak honestly.

Instead of answering, MJ simply shrugged and mentioned, “I like your leather jacket.” It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Somehow, in the time it took for the girls to converse those two lines, Peter and Ned were engaged in their own silent conversation. Y/N turned back to catch a glimpse of the two silently arguing with each other while making frantic faces before they quickly broke off and attempted to act normal. “Wow, you two are lame…” MJ judged, causing the two boys to drop their façade.

“Hey, so um…” Peter began awkwardly, turning toward Y/N. “Ned and I were thinking, you know you don’t know a lot of people here yet, but there’s this party, and you totally don’t have to feel like you have to, but like, we thought maybe you might want to go to meet people. I mean, we’ll be there, too-“

“When is it?” Y/N asked as a means of begging Peter to stop rambling.

“It’s Friday,” Ned piped in eagerly.

“I have a thing with Tony on Friday, but I’ll ask him if we can reschedule tonight,” Y/N explained. She and Tony were trying to implement a system that every week they do a bonding activity to get to know each other better. They’d only done it once before when Tony brought Y/N to his favorite shawarma joint. It didn’t seem like anything typical to the Stark lifestyle, just a small hole-in-the-wall type place. Then Tony explained how the Avengers came there after their first battle together, and it put things in perspective. Y/N couldn’t really take Tony to anywhere she knew as it was all too far away, and she honestly didn’t know what she was going to choose to do for her week anyway. She really did want to go to that party, if for no other reason than to have a shared experience to talk to people about so they’d stop asking the same 3 questions. She figured Tony would be fine with it. If there was something he understood, it would be a party, wouldn’t it? Y/N moved to brush a lot of hair out of her eyes while she said, “You know what? Plan on me being there. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Woah! You have a com-log, too?” Ned suddenly burst out, much to the confusion of Y/N.

“It’s called a com- _link_ , Ned,” Peter groaned in embarrassment as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t get it,” Y/N admitted, looking between the two. After stressfully running a handful of lean fingers through his thick brown hair, Peter pulled up the sleeve of his blue sweater to reveal his own Stark Communicator. It was the same build, same red armor-like band, the only difference was the frame. Where Y/N had the Ironman gold detailing, Peter’s comm had bright cobalt. It was such a rich combination of red and blue it seemed impossible to make metal look like that. “So is this one of those ‘you show me yours, I show you mine’ moments?” Y/N joked. She heard MJ, who had moved on from being a part of the conversation to sketching in her notebook, snicker to herself. Smiling at the fact that she got a reaction out of the individualistic MJ, Y/N shimmied one shoulder out of her jacket and held her com-link next to Peter’s.

“I mean, I just have it for the Stark internship. You know… so Mr. Stark can get a hold of me and I can send him files. Just a bunch of boring stuff like that.” Peter had awkwardly shaken his head and pushed his lips up as he emphasized boring. There was no denying, he was an awkward kid, but Y/N had a feeling if he could put up with Tony there was more to him than the bumbling, nervous boy she was seeing.

 


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
> 
> Word count: 7464
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, Threat of NC (but no NC)
> 
> Chapter Summary: Y/N goes to the Back-To-School party with Peter to meet up with Ned and MJ and ends up meeting the members of Pai’s club, MISA when things turn for the worst.
> 
> A/N: So I’ve been working diligently and am getting Chapter Two out early!!! I’m so excited for Chapter 3 y’all have no idea! So as I was writing this I saw several of y’all comment about how wholesome it was and I was like —am I gonna ruin it? But this has been the story from the start and I’m so glad to see it taking to life. If you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, Inbox me and I‘ll add your username. Members of the tag list MUST reblog. I look forward to your feedback, friends!

**Chapter Two**

The one condition Tony insisted on was that Peter Parker must go to the party with Y/N. It was embarrassing, to say the least, when the man called Peter’s Aunt May to make sure of that. So here Y/N was, sitting in her running Audi as the rain came down and made the empty street gleam navy. She leaned over to try to peak out the passenger window for any sign of the boy coming out of the apartment complex. She was anxious and growing self-conscious in her new outfit and how much of her body it exposed. That was Tony’s compromise. Y/N could miss their “bonding time” and go to the party instead, but Tony would help her get ready for the party, and the man knew parties.

After school Thursday he took Y/N to a fancy store she’d never heard of where the price tags didn’t dip below $500, which was probably why she’d never heard of it. The moment they walked in two women, who looked like they’d probably been supermodels in their younger days, hurried to assist. One led Tony away and sat him down on a chaise lounge by the fitting room with a cold glass of sparkling water. The other whisked Y/N away toward the clothing in the boutique, speaking about what they were looking for as if she were going to the red carpet. It was all very overwhelming at first, but Y/N caught a glance at a mesh shirt she liked. It was simple and looked like her style which made her comfortable. The woman was very nice when Y/N pulled it out and brought a black bralette and classic pair of black skinny jeans to match, as well as a silver chained purse and matching belt to accessorize. It was nice to know that she was willing to let Y/N make decisions for herself and still it was strange when she knew how to make that decision better. The whole “accessorizing” thing wasn’t anything Y/N had entertained much before, and she never thought of a belt as anything more than a tool and a purse a pocket-extender. Still, she put the ensemble on behind the lavender curtain for the changing room and slid it open to reveal Tony ready to approve or disapprove.

He choked on his water and sputtered, “Absolutely not,” the moment he caught a glimpse. The shop assistant rushed toward Tony as he coughed, but he held up a hand to hold her off and stood up. “That is too risqué and I can’t allow you to go out in public in that.”

“I mean, when you think about it, you saying that is like saying that I, a minor, should be sexualized, and if I wear revealing clothing it’s my fault if a man sexualizes me, and is that really the message you want to send your only daughter?” Y/N rambled, knowing Tony well enough to know he’d see right through the speech, but would also appreciate the effort.

“Why don’t you go ahead and run that,” Tony said to the supermodel who had styled Y/N, handing her his gold card and walking toward Y/N.

“I thought you said it was too risqué?” Y/N mocked as the man stepped up to her. “What do you even think is gonna happen at a party jam-packed with a hundred teenagers?” The girl asked, trying to give a more justified reason for her to have the outfit that she’d grown so attached to in a matter of minutes.

“You happened, didn’t you?” Tony quipped.

Y/N smiled at how much she appreciated this version of parental interaction. He was parent enough to take responsibility and care, but he was childish enough to be satisfied dissing the teen and then giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. It was a fun experience, even if it was weird, and she appreciated the bonding time.

Y/N was uncomfortably adjusting the mesh top when Peter hurriedly opened the passenger door and climbed in. He began to apologize as he buckled in, “Sorry I’m lat-Holy fuck.” The boy hadn’t really changed in demeanor but lost his thoughts when he looked at Y/N clad in all black. “You look like a million bucks. Like, I mean, actually. Is that a Coach bag? Aren’t those things like a thousand dollars each?” Y/N giggle at Peter’s innocent surprise. He seemed more shocked by the branding than the serious skin Y/N was sporting, and it was relieving.

“Tony wanted to take me to this one fancy boutique,” Y/N explained with a giggle as she shifted into drive.

“Okay yeah, okay, that makes sense, yeah,” Peter mumbled to himself as they drove off into the neighbourhood.

“Are you nervous, Peter?” Y/N inquired, glancing away from the street to peek at the panicked boy. “I mean, I’m no party expert or anything, but what’s the worst case scenario, someone double dips in the guac?”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Peter trailed off. He clearly didn’t really want to share too much. “The last time I was at a school party, something bad happened and I had to leave very suddenly, and I was already worried about something like that happening again, and now its like, I get in and you look super hot, and I mean, I’m not into you like that or anything, like we just met, but-“

Y/n laughed, “Peter!” Anything to get the boy to stop spiralling off into infinity. “I’m flattered that as my friend you think I look bitchin’ and if anything happens, it’s okay. You can find me and I can drive you home right away.”

“It’s not-“ For the first time, Peter paused to take a breath and rephrase, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“You know you don’t have to be so jittery around me,” Y/N insisted. “Clearly you’re good at communicating or you wouldn’t be Tony’s intern, or have such good friends. Don’t be a rambling mess around me. I want a friend, too.” Y/N saw a large amount of cars parked on the street and heard the loud bass of the music pumping down the street and decided it best to park where she was at the end of the block, where she had room. She moved the gear shift into park and looked at the seemingly calmer boy beside her.

“I’m sorry. I have a lot of responsibilities and I still try very hard to have a personal life and you make me nervous because you're kind of really close to both realms. Like, you’re the center of the Venn-diagram, and it makes me worry that the space between is getting smaller, and I’m not ready for that yet,” Peter explained calmly, finally holding his composure.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighed. “I’m glad you told me that… AND we still barely know each other. Everything you’re afraid of hasn’t happened yet. Can we please cross that bridge when it actually starts experiencing structural integrity wearing and needs maintenance?”

“That was a very specific metaphor,” Peter commented, making the young girl smile and push her way out of the car into the barely-there rain. As expected, Peter followed suit, and the two walked in the front door with their dignity fully stocked.

The moment they opened to door it was absolute fucking chaos. The music was booming, the voices were blaring, heat rushed out to be released into the night for only a moment before the door closed behind Peter and Y/N. The two teens felt lost for a moment looking at all the sweaty high schoolers crammed into one house, albeit very large. Peter spotted Ned and MJ leaning against a wall in the corner and began navigating Y/N through the crowd toward them. Of course, this entailed him getting cut off by someone and consequentially Y/N stumbling into Peter’s back. Miraculously, however, they managed to cross to the corner Ned and MJ were taking cover in.

“It’s very loud,” Y/N yelled, unsure how she was supposed to make friends over the sound. She glanced around nervously, wondering what she’d gotten herself into.

“You look hot,” MJ shouted back, nonchalantly as she gave a cool backwards nod. Y/N was thrilled to have MJ’s approval, and still, she smiled at her shuffling feet insecurely.

Finally, Ned mentioned, “It’s quieter out by the pool,” before leading the group away to the back yard. This, of course, involved travelling through the dense crowd around the DJ stand, which all but blasted their ears off, but it was worth it. They travelled to the far side of the strangely shaped swimming pool. It was lit up for the night, making the entire backyard light up with an aqua glow. It was clear why there were so few people outside. It had just rained, everything was damp, the pool had some stray leaves floating in it. It wasn’t exactly party central, and that felt just perfect to the group of misfits.

“I can’t believe they’re letting Flash DJ again,” MJ complained, kicking a nearby branch into the pool for no apparent reason outside of impulse.

“Because of what he did to Peter last year,” Ned agreed solemnly with a sad nod, only to be immediately contradicted by the tiny girl beside him.

“No, because he’s a crappy DJ,” MJ groaned inconsiderately. She was a confusing person who never quite did what you expected of her. Before the conversation could continue, she’d plopped down on the cement and was wading her feet in the pool, converse and all.

One thing stuck in Y/N’s mind that she really wanted the answer to. “What did Flash do to you, Peter?” the teen inquired concernedly. As far as she knew, Flash was just some smart guy in a couple of her classes. She didn’t have the social context to think anything ill of him, and the hint made her apprehensive for a number of reasons.

Before Peter could respond, Pai was running up exclaiming, “You’re here!” before wrapping her arms around a very stunned and rigid Y/N. It was weird how silky the girl's hair was falling off of Y/N’s shoulders, and she wasn’t quite sure how to engage in this fake-y femme behavior. She’d seen girls do this with each other—the high pitched squeak, the hug, the small talk, and then they would finally admit what they wanted—It wasn’t anything she’d ever encountered herself. Awkwardly, Y/N tried to hug back but wasn’t sure how to do it without tearing out that impossibly slick and long hair. “I’m so glad you could make it. You know, Liz used to throw this bash, but she had to move last year because her dad went to jail. So sad,” Pai put forth a small pouty face, clearly not stopping to think about the fact that Y/N didn’t have the first clue who Liz was. “Hey, Peter. Ned,” the bubbly girl greeted, looking across the group to find MJ on the ground. “Michelle, you’re gonna get your shoes wet!” Pai warned with a wave of a hand and a smile, causing MJ to shake her head and look up confusedly, then turn to look at the oblivious girl with a face that begged how she even missed that point. “Anyway, Y/N, there’s someone I wanted to introduce you to,” the skinny girl explained as she slid a boney arm under Y/N’s and began dragging the girl away. Y/N looked back at the group, trying to make an apologetic face as Pai continued, “His name is Amadeus Cho and he’s the president of MISA. Korean guy. Super smart and super hot. He’s the host of the party this year. Anyway, he wanted to meet you and so I told him I’d introduce you two.”

Y/N sighed. While she wasn’t used to the girl-y social behavior, she could tell Pai’s heart was in the right place. She was just trying to help Y/N make a new friend, and that was sweet, even if it did entail dragging the helpless girl back toward the daunting house. Pai led Y/N through the large crowd of the party and around the corner where she’d previously been with Peter, Ned, and MJ to a flight of carpeted stairs, briefly mentioning, “Some of us are hanging out upstairs to get away from everything,” before pulling Y/N all the way up and into what appeared to be a second living space. There was a kitchenette on the back wall, and in the center of the room was a floor pit with some modern art-looking furniture. A white couch and chair of oblong shape cornered around a purple rug on a black tile floor. The whole place looked so rich, and Y/N worried when she caught the judgmental eyes of the 5 teens scattered across it. There was a girl sitting on the purple rug going through magazines, one guy bringing a bowl of chips over from the kitchenette, which seemed strange at a party where there was literally a kitchen full of food set out downstairs, there were two teens laying on the couch together, cuddly enough for Y/N to assume they were a couple, and finally, there was the only person who could have been Cho, sitting on the artistic white chair like it was a goddamn throne. Y/N felt so far out of her element all she could do was follow Pai’s lead.

“Y/N. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Amadeus Cho,” the composed boy offered a hand.

“Oh really? So people actually call you by your first and last name, that is to say you go by your full name,” Y/N could hear Peter’s rambling coming out her mouth as she shook the kid’s hand, and quickly pulled away, stopping herself while trying to recover with a string of, “Cool, cool, cool. Very cool. That’s very cool that you do that.” She wanted to facepalm her head back into the womb at the way she was acting.

Amadeus looked at Y/N strangely, and with the subtly of a K-Pop star, and elected to ignore her stance behavior in favor of introducing his friends. “This is Mercedes,” he gestured to the girl sitting on the rug. The girl who waved was fashionably dressed in a bright cyan that complimented her dark, pigmented skin tone. Her hair was bleached blonde and clearly had spent a couple of hours in the flat iron. Her outfit was gaudy, but modest, which made Y/N miss the likes of Peter and MJ who, although very awkwardly, made her feel killer to wear it. “On the couch is Sam and Noah. They’ll probably be too infatuated with each other all night to notice you’re here, so you can pretty much ignore them,” While this sounded like a jab the boys would be offended by, they didn’t so much as wince, which was odd, but Y/N shrugged and took a seat next to Pai on the raised floor, dangling her feet into the floor pit. “I’m Aleksi, by the way,” the last boy in the studious glasses introduced himself bitterly as he returned with the bowl of chips and joined Mercedes on the floor.

“So word on the street is that you’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” Cho implied as he leaned forward in his chair to his half-open hands like he was Sherlock Holmes. The motion pulled down his sleeve just enough to reveal a very expensive looking silver watch.

In her discomfort, Y/N’s sarcastic side immediately responded, “Oh really? Because I thought it was pretty well hidden…”

“Hey, hey,” Amadeus slowly held his hands up in surrender, “if you don’t want to talk about it you’re in the right place. Unlike the party animals downstairs, most of us up here are the members of MISA. That is to say, we understand sharing only what of your background you’re comfortable with revealing.” He smiled like a fucking romantic interest in a K-Drama, and Y/N couldn’t tell if she found it charming or it made her want to punch him in his perfect teeth. Clearly, he thought of himself as elite, and she could see why, but being oblivious didn’t make him a bad person. He could be a charmer and still be a super nice considerate person, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“No, no,” Y/N began. “It’s just-” she caught a glimpse of how hopeful Pai looked introducing Y/N to her friends and felt her soften her resolve for the sake of the kind girl who’d been so nice to her since her first day. “I mean, it’s alright, I guess. There’s just not much to tell. I’m more interested in what you all are getting up to up here, anyway,” Y/N said in an attempt to change the subject.

“Mostly just hanging,” Mercedes responded casually, setting aside another magazine from the stack. Y/N was impressed by how easily she could handle the paper with the bejewelled stiletto nails the girl was sporting.

“What’s with the magazines?” Y/N asked. Her interest was peaked because even Steve Rogers didn’t mess around with paper magazines these days.

“Planning out a ransom note,” Mercedes mentioned nonchalantly as she flipped through another magazine. “On a completely unrelated note, do you spell Stark with one ‘R’ or two?” IT was such dead delivery Y/N wasn’t sure if she was really supposed to laugh at that joke until the stylish girl on the carpet glanced up with a playful smile. Y/N grinned back and let out what was more a huff of air than a laugh.

“Mercedes is trying to find an issue that features more than two races. She’s trying to make a point about whitewashing and how damaging it is when magazines will make sure to have their one ‘token black model’ and call it diversity,” Amadeus Cho explained, the cheeky smile still plastered to his face.

“I’m writing an opinion piece about the appalling lack of racial diversity because it’s always a line up of white people and then one person of a different race so it's 'not racist’,” Mercedes elaborated passionately. “Look around this room,” she gestured, “We’ve got at least 5 ethnicities at the same party. That not what the world looks like and they need to acknowledge that, and if they don’t my letter to the editor, I’m going to take that rejection letter and send it to their competitors to publish.”

This felt huge. This girl was proudly doing loud work of her own volition for a cause that would make it seem like a whisper. Mercedes was doing it anyway just to have a voice in her cause. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of intimidation and inspiration. “That is honestly so cool,” Y/N admitted, earning a wink of Mercedes’s deep brown eye. The girl turned to the group excitedly and opened it up to the floor. “Anyone else have an obscenely awesome social project they’d like to tell me about?” 

“Amadeus Cho has one!” Pai piped up immediately. It was honestly sweet how much she wanted to be involved in the group, but it was also slightly hard to watch her trying to get approval from such intense people. The first day Y/N met Pavitra she had mentioned MISA and how much it felt good to have people of untraditional backgrounds to share the experience with, but she never seemed the type to chain herself to a pole for the sake of racism in America and that was okay. She was entitled to try to live her life as normalized as possible. It was so clear that Pai was working twice as hard, as a result, to feel included. It was sad because Y/N liked Pai. She thought Pavitra was a kind girl with a grounding in where she came from and ambitions that would fly her into another galaxy. So to see her trying to be involved by boasting her friends' success was conflicting.

“I’m working on a drone with reflective panelling that I can send into North Korea airspace to expose the absolute horrors that reside there,” Amadeus mentioned like it was yesterday’s math assignment, causing Y/N to drop her jaw. So he was a science guy with a social justice cause all packaged into the body of a member of BTS. She now understood why Pai was so infatuated with the guy. “I’m not done just yet, but I have it in my room along with some pictures from the test run if you’d like to see,” Cho offered.

“Oh my god, absolutely,” Y/N responded. She took Amadeus Cho’s hand and allowed him to lead her further away into the large house. By the time they reached to door frame, she felt miles away from the party going on downstairs. Cho led her into the dark and tidy bedroom, over to his desk, which was littered with parts, but right in the center was the shining glory of a genius mind. Y/N noticed a stack of photos printed out and stacked up on the left side of the drone and mindlessly picked them up and glanced through. They were all pictures of building that she couldn’t quite understand, but she was too intimidated to say that she didn’t know what they meant, so she set them back down and sat down on the nearby bed as Cho picked up the drone.

“She took a hit during the test run and needs some repairs, but the reflective panelling should still work if I just-” Amadeus forced way for a switch that was stuck and the thing disappeared, peaking Y/N’s interest. “Wanna see something cool?” Cho asked, earning a shy nod from Y/N. He flipped the drone so that the panels were facing away from him, and Y/N watched his torso visually disappear.

She furrowed her brows as she said, “The panels broadcast the signal of the room behind you as if you weren’t there. How do they do that?”

“Memory,” Amadeus explained as he placed the drone back on the desk and began walking toward where Y/N sat on the bed, “Think of it like Google Maps, but good. There are audio sensors that help it locate itself and it can tell where things are in a space as it correlates to a 3D rendering of the space. Every second it’s piecing together that map. It knows the wall is behind me, but I’m not supposed to be there, it knows that from its maps and the sensors, it can still tell that wall is behind me, so that’s what it projects.” The bed sank beside Y/N as the attractive teen took a seek so close she could feel the seam of his jeans brush her leg.

Y/N could feel her heart beating louder and faster, wondering if she was really okay with what this was leading to. “You seem very proud of yourself,” Y/N managed to tease nervously. She knew she wanted to maybe kiss him some, just some good old fashion dumb teenager acting out kind of thing.

Amadeus Cho leaned in close to Y/N’s ear and near-whispered, “Maybe I am.” His warm breath made her ear tingle as the boy pulled away with that sly smile.

Y/N looked up to Cho curiously. She wasn’t sure his endgame, but she had come to the conclusion that she wanted to play. Amadeus took a steady hand and brushed back Y/N’s hair. The cold of his watch roused her flesh as it brushed across the back of her neck. Their foreheads touched and Amadeus moved his face so that Y/N felt the tickle of their noses just barely touching. The next thing she knew, those beautiful lips were against hers. Before she knew it, Amadeus was leaning back onto the bed, and Y/N’s thirsty lips stayed attached to Cho as she leaned forward over him, desperate for the hydration. He began to massage her sides through the mesh shirt, grasping tighter and tighter as they continued. Y/N placed her fingers in his perfectly thick black hair as the boy beneath her trailed a hand up her back and onto her head. She felt a slight pressure at first, but then she felt a shove that left her looking at the boy's stomach. She knew she didn’t want to do that, and she wasn’t about to submit.

“Let’s just keep doing this,” Y/N suggested, placing a sensual kiss below the boy’s ear. He pulled her face right back in, smashing a violent kiss onto her lips. Cho carefully slid his hands up the back of Y/N’s Mesh shirt, tickling the exposed skin. His hands began fiddling with the bralette and Y/N immediately reached back to gently push his arms away, only to be ignored as he continued to play with the band of the bra. Her heart was beginning to flutter, and not in a good way. Y/N pulled away and embarrassedly but firmly told him, “Please don’t.” Amadeus nodded and smiled, pulling his hands out of the girl's shirt and showing them like he was trying to prove he wasn’t holding a weapon. Y/N took a deep breath to remind herself that he listened to what she said and didn’t push it any further before leaning her face back down to the beautiful boy laying below her. She was about to lean in for another kiss when she felt a powerful shove to the top of her head and found herself face to face with the budge in his jeans. “Okay, I thought I made it pretty clear I didn’t want to do that,” Y/N said, anger heating up quick, struggling to gain her ground as she continually sank into the marshmallowy mattress.

“Where are you going?” Cho investigated frantically as he pulled himself into a seated position once again.

Y/N finally managed to stand and trying to keep it together she stated curtly, “I’m going back to my friends-“

“Bitch!” The next thing Y/N new her forearm was burning with how tightly it had been gripped. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N screamed. Tugging at her arm was a mistake. It was a million pins and needles, like when kids used to give each other ‘snake bites’ on the playground. “Let go of me,” she mustered the lowest her voice could go.

“Why the fuck would you lead me on like that, huh?” Cho argued back, tightening his grip. “After all that you say you’re leaving, like hell you are.” Y/N struggled more, beginning to really panic, knowing that no one could hear the encounter over the party, that Amadeus was just getting more aggressive. An involuntary tear left her eye at the pain of a particularly hard tug on both their ends and suddenly at that moment he just let go. Y/N knew that should have been the moment she booked it out the door, but she was so confused by the behavior should couldn’t help freezing and looking at Cho, who was quite horrified and starring at the doorway.

“Y/N,” the scared girl spun her head around to see Peter Parker standing in the doorway with a hand held out. Peter took a hard swallow, and she could see he was uncomfortable with the situation, but still trying to help. “We’re going,” Peter told her seriously.

Y/N took a deep breath to compose herself and then casually strolled toward Peter as if nothing had happened, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her quickly down the stairs. When they got to the main floor, Flash at the DJ stand shouted, “Where are you going, Penis Parker? The party’s not over yet.” Peter didn’t so much as wince as he rushed Y/N out of the house and straight into the middle of the street, suddenly lit up by headlights. The car laid on the horn as Peter pushed Y/N out of the way, the two now huddling between two parked cars across the street from the party. The two hadn’t realized they were panting until it had already started slowing down.

“How did you even know I was up there?” Y/N asked. Peter huffed, out of air from rushing out of the place, and simply tapped on his Stark Wrist Communicator as he continued to catch his breath. “I don’t understand,” Y/N admitted. She still didn’t know what the damn thing did and had no idea why he’d be using it to figure out she was up there in the first place.

“Mr Stark called me. He said he’d gotten a notification that your vitals spiked and asked me to make sure you were okay. The moment I hung up with him I got a distress signal-“

“I didn’t send a distress signal,” Y/N mentioned in her confusion.

“No, of course not. Jarvis did,” Peter explained, beginning to walk down the street toward where they’d parked. Y/N looked at him blankly and shook her head, still not understanding this strange world she’d been thrown into. “My guess is the yelling and the grabbing set him off, so the distress signal got sent to the nearest com-link wearer, me, and I pulled up the building schematic to trace the signal,” the small boy explained like it were elementary quantum physics.

Y/N shook her head hopelessly, “but it all happened so fast.” It terrified her that things could fall apart so quickly. That she could feel so unsafe in a situation she chose to put herself in. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Peter offered as they reached the Audi.

She really didn’t want to bring it up ever again, but she wanted to clarify something with this boy. “I don’t think he would have ever done it.” Peter cocked his head. “I mean, yeah he was angry and aggressive, but I don’t think he’d go that far. Fight a little sure, get a little too angry yeah. I just… he’s the kind of person who, about a month ago, would have been afraid I was gonna mug him because I was living in a poor, crappy city. The fact that now he thinks I’m a prize to be one because of my background I’m worth pushing around… It just seems so backwards and confusing, Peter! And that’s my whole world right now. I don’t understand any of it.” Quickly Y/N climbed into the car, trying to leave her embarrassment at the door. That was more than she had intended on sharing. So as Peter climbed into the passenger seat, Y/N apologized, “I’m sorry, Peter, I’ll just take you home. Don’t you worry about little old me. I just need the night to regroup.” 

“No. After everything, I’m making sure you get home safe. If that means I need to drive then, hand over the keys. I’ll do it.” Peter’s voice raised in nervous pitch, but he maintained his composure. 

“Peter, even if I wanted you to drive me home, I live at the Avengers Facility. Security is impossible and I’ve basically accepted that I will never be able to have friends over,” Y/N explained hopelessly.

“Except…” the boy encouraged, turning over his hand for her to go on. It was actually the glimpse of the comlink on his own wrist that actually allowed Y/N to process why Peter was special.

“Except you have security clearance because you're Tony’s intern.” Y/N disappointedly threw her head around in a circle as she put together the rather obvious information. “Fuck it,” Y/N responded, aggressively opened the driver’s door she’d only just entered, standing to look at Peter over the roof of the car. “You licensed?” She asked casually.

“I just passed my test last weekend,” Peter responded proudly.

The doors hadn't even closed when Y/N abandoned ship. “Yeah, no. Get back in the car,” the girl commanded, ducking back in head first.  She simply said, “Jarvis?” as she climbed back into the seat and buckled up. She knew his perception and memory protocols were intuitive enough that he’d know what she was asking.

“Routing you to the Avengers Facility, Miss Y/N,” the car responded as it roared to life. The interior began to glow blue from all the lights throughout the dash. Rapidly, the car backed up and pulled out of the parking spot, startling Peter enough that he grabbed the ceiling for stability.

“You can do that?!” the frantic teen wheezed. Y/N decided that was a rhetorical question, and simply smiled at the funny kid. He was so unpredictable—or maybe she just didn’t know him that well yet. 

Y/N reached down the left side of her seat and held the button back until her seat was as far back as it could go. She wasn’t exactly mindful of why she did it. Just to relax Y/N supposed. She just felt really closed off, and as thankful as she was for Peter, she wanted to be alone for a bit to sort her thoughts. The best she could do to indulge that was to rotate her body some to face away from the boy. She didn’t want to talk, she wasn’t sure what to talk about, she hadn’t really put together her whole feelings on the matter. The first couple minutes she felt guilty like she was ignoring Peter, but after several, it seemed normal. She could hear was the quiet engine and the wind on the windows lulling her.

“This is so sad. Jarvis, play Desposito.”

Peter had delivered the line absolutely deadpan, and in the silence, both teens immediately froze to anticipate what Jarvis’s response would be. Y/N’s interests were perked enough that she peeked over her shoulder at the boy. She wasn’t even sure if Jarvis was programmed to respond to him. Peter, as a favor, had shown Y/N a bit more about how the com-link works over lunch during the week and his AI was named Karen, so the J.A.R.V.I.S. system was clearly anchored on the Stark name. It had been silent too long, like Jarvis was deciding. Y/N rotated in her seat back toward Peter so she could get a good look at the console. A flamenco-style guitar flourish resonated through the speakers. Shocked, Y/N turned toward Peter who’s jaw drop said he was screaming on the inside. A slower guitar riff continued as Y/N moved to sit her seat up in pure shock. The notes descended into the song, the meme, the legend and Y/N lost it. She felt laughter bubble up from her throat as she looked at the kid who instigated it. His jaw slowly closed, but the wide surprised eyes stayed. Y/N was loving the reactivity Peter had and wanted to keep it going, so she began dancing with her arms and her torso as the verse built close to the chorus. She was surprised at how easy it was to do a body roll in a car seat. It felt sexy in the suggestive outfit she was wearing, and in this situation, she felt safe to wield that power. It was just Peter, and he was her friend.

“Come on, Peter,” Y/N urged, grabbing the hands of the boy who’d been too thrilled watching her to join in himself. She made their hands dance together, turning Peter’s hands over and pulsing waves through them, before letting go for him to dance on his own whims. She wasn’t a dancer, but the pulsing waves she sent through her body in the car seat felt amazing. She looked over at Peter who was more tentatively head bobbing and swaying side to side, but she was satisfied. It was the kind of song you participated in, and she wanted to share this experience with him until the last line.

The car returned to silence. Putting her arms down, Y/N could feel the beginnings of sweat forming on her back where it was stuck against the leather interior, but it was refreshing. She felt a renewed energy by building a positive experience, and it didn’t make the other one okay, but it made her feel like she was refocused and could better sort out her feelings about what happened, without the depression of them being that last impact. “Thanks, Peter. I needed that,” Y/N admitted in the silence that had returned as the car pulled up out front the Avengers Facility.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was just making a joke to tease you—as a friend of course. Jarvis did the rest,” Peter defended with his hands up in innocence.

Y/N smiled and shook her head as she got out of the car. Peter behind her. The moment both doors were closed the car drove off to perform its parking protocol. Y/N had gotten used to that one small perk of her new life. Never having to park in the garage when she got home was a lifesaver. She turned around to look at Peter, now standing alone on the driveway. “We’ll ask Tony if Happy is still around for the night and see if we can get you a ride home that way,” Y/N suggested, otherwise inviting the boy to follow her in.

She found Tony sitting at the bar in the room she had waited in for so long that first night. He had a drink in his hand, but it was full and the ice inside was but slivers, so Y/N could tell he’d been sitting there for a while not drinking it. She figured maybe even just the action of pouring a drink felt better than doing nothing. He hurried over from the bar at the sight of the kids, worried expression. “What happened?” the man begged.

Y/N thought about what she’d be saying and licked her lips, knowing what she needed to have this conversation. “Peter?”

“Yeah,” the diligent boy stepped forward ready to care for her, and this was the kind of coddling she didn’t need.

“Do you know where the mess hall is?” She turned to face the boy.

Peter Parker assessed her for a moment with those deep chocolate brown eyes and understood, “Yeah, I do,” he answered before quickly walking out of the room.

As soon as the boy stepped out of the room, Y/N began, “Now don’t freak out.”

“What do you mean don’t freak out?!” Tony responded all high strung. “All I know is you sent out a distress signal, of course I’m going to freak out!”

“Well don’t freak out because then I’m gonna freak out!” Y/N rigidly explained, “And I’m not freaking out about it, are you?!”

“No! Are you?” Tony asked tentatively.

After a pause, Y/N insisted, “No.” It was a strange rollercoaster of 4 sentences, but Tony and Y/N were still trying to get used to this whole ‘Parent-Child’ dynamic. They didn’t know how to gauge these situations and it made sense that this would be a little bumpy. They were both scared. Both began waiting for the other to make the next move, and they ended up staring at each other for an uncomfortably long time. “Why’d you call Peter at the first sign of trouble?” Y/N asked finally, careful to start with something relatively explicable.

“I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I wanted you to go with him because I asked him to keep an eye on you,” Tony explained, making Y/N start to heat up.

“Okay, you realize that’s not his job, right? I’m not exactly sure what he does around here, but I know watching me isn’t in the job description.” Y/N felt offended that Tony would waste Peter’s time with tasks like that. Peter was her friend, if he was going to look out for her, he was going to do it because he wanted to, not because he was told to.

“And where would you be if I hadn’t called him, hm?” Tony quizzed, his lips beginning to disappear in reciprocated frustration.

“Right here!” Y/N yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “There’s clearly something you’re not getting here, so here’s what happened,” the livid teen started listing off on her fingers, “Party. Guy. Bedroom. I said no. He got angry.” She had run out of fingers and decided to continue on anyway. “He wasn’t trying to force anything on me, he just grabbed my arm in a hissy fit. He wouldn’t have hurt me. He wasn’t going to rape me. So if you hadn’t called Peter, the guys hissy fit would have fizzled out on its own, I’d have left, and I would be RIGHT—FUCKING—HERE!” The girl gasped for air and dropped to the ground. She had run herself out of air in her aggression, and she was scared at the high-level emotions she was having. It was making her wheeze.

“Oh, kid,” Tony spoke softly, stepping forward and kneeling down on the floor next to her.

“I just…” she mustered herself. “I don’t know how to feel right now. It was nothing. I know that, but then everything around it makes me feel angry one moment, and fine the next, and I’m sad, but it’s not because of what happened. I don’t know how to feel.” Without another word, Tony sat down on the floor next to the girl and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder she continued to mumble, “It’s just so confusing because he’s not a bad guy and he didn’t really do a bad thing. Like he was responsive when I asked him to stop. But it made him angry, and I guess that makes me angry.” Tony pulled away, and lead Y/N to the couch so she could continue. “I think what bugs me the most is that a month ago that kid wouldn’t have looked my way, and now because you’ve slapped a name on me I’m desirable enough that he wants to fight for it. Like a possession.” Y/N stopped speaking and began chewing on her lip as she thought further.

Tony tapped her knee and stood up. He began working his way toward the bar and asked, “You want anything, kid?” as he swiped the watered-down drink off the counter and dumped it out.

“You realize that sounds wrong because you’re not supposed to be asking me that, right?” Y/N quipped back without missing a beat. She knew he never meant it in the first place, but it felt good and made the girl smile to herself. This was their relationship. He wasn’t her dad, and she wasn’t going to call him that. That didn’t describe their relationship. He was her senior, and she respected that, but that didn’t mean she had to conform her behavior around the associated social rules of Father-Daughter. So Tony and Y/N made quips at each other all the time. It felt nice to have that one note of stability. “Could you bring me a glass of water?” Y/N called over to Tony. Thinking nothing of the man’s lack of response as she heard the clinking of glasses and the sloshing of liquid being poured.

Tony returned, taking a seat on the couch with a single drink in his hand. “Where’s mine?” Y/N mocked offense. She did want the drink, but she much more enjoyed the game of verbal ping pong she and Tony played.

“I’m sorry, but this bar does not serve any underage gods, superheroes, or normal people,” Tony joked with a smile, earning an eye roll from his daughter. “So what are you gonna do if you have to see this kid at school?” Tony inquired earnestly.

Y/N furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t hate him… I just hate what he did.”

It was Monday when the girl calmly walked across the lunch room and smashed Amadeus Cho in the face with a lunch tray.

 


End file.
